Errol Barnes, Esq.

The lawyer sitting across the table from Floyd had a greasy look. “It appears your brother Errol Barnes, esquire, has left you a hotel, ” he said.

“Son, I haven’t spoke to Errol in fifty years. Why in hell would he do that?”

He opened his briefcase and took out a stained letter. “This may explain, Mr. Barnes.”

Dear Floyd,
I bet you wonder why I am giving you the Hotel Charro. I bought it in 1970 as an investment and it has been the death of me. I hope it has the same effect on you.

Yours in hell everlasting, Errol

 

Friday Fictioneers

This story comes from my early attempt as a syndicated cartoonist in which the central character, Floyd Barnes, inherits a crumbling hotel full of elderly cranks. It was not picked up, but I had fun drawing it. Here’s a sample Sunday panel  introducing Mrs. Krebster, an old woman who thinks that Floyd is his late brother  Errol. She still talks to him even though she knows Errol is dead.

from 4/18/93